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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28232220">keep going</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookishpanda/pseuds/bookishpanda'>bookishpanda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides Shorts [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Mentions of Anxiety, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Painting, Romantic Prinxiety - Freeform, mentions of depression, mentions of self harm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:29:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,430</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28232220</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookishpanda/pseuds/bookishpanda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Virgil keeps a list of things that make life worth living. Roman shows him his art studio.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides Shorts [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067366</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>keep going</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Virgil had taken to making a list. He had this pocket-sized notebook that he would keep in one of his hoodie pockets, and whenever something made him smile or question life or make him interested in continuing on, he would scribble it. The notebook was filling up rapidly, with notes like <em> Patton’s birthday is soon! </em> or <em> Logan promised to teach me about constellations </em>.</p><p>And on the nights where things got unbearable, when he wanted to throw himself off of the roof or into the ocean, when the scars on his wrists and thighs tormented him, and when the voices just wouldn’t shut up, he read these lists. He repeated them like a mantra. <em> Patton just conjured up a new kind of tea </em> , <em> Logan made ice cream with Logan’s Berry Jelly </em> , <em> Roman is taking us on a tour of the imagination tomorrow </em>, and so forth, until the clouds left his presence and he could breathe again. </p><p>The others had noticed the notebook, had noticed the scribbling, but were almost too concerned to ask about it. Remus tried stealing it to take a peek but only got stabbed by one of Virgil’s spider legs. Janus tried sneaking up behind him to get a glance of the lists but was only hissed at as Virgil sunk out of the room. Logan, being the one known for writing things down, was intrigued, but was never sure of how to ask someone about their hobbies or musings.</p><p>Late one night, after all of the other sides had gone to bed. Virgil was drinking some tea and sitting at the dining table, scribbling and mumbling to himself. Footsteps made him freeze, and he slammed the notebook shut when he saw Roman approaching. The prince was in a fancy robe, his hair in a bonnet, and he looked like he was having trouble falling asleep. </p><p>“Hey, Virge,” he yawned, rubbing his eyes. “Is there still hot water for tea?” Virgil just nodded, and the creative side went into the kitchen to fix himself some tea. The anxious side immediately opened the notebook and began scrawling.</p><p>
  <em> Roman without makeup </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Roman in a robe </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Roman in a bonnet </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Roman looking sleepy </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Roman smiling </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Roman </em>
</p><p>“What are you writing?” Roman had come back into the dining room and sat down across from Virgil at the table. He took a long sip of tea, watching as Virgil closed the notebook again. </p><p>“Just… a list,” he responded, not meeting Roman’s eyes. “I uh… write down reasons to stay alive. It’s stupid.” Roman reached his hand across the table, and Virgil thought he was going to take the notebook but instead he took Virgil’s hand in his own.</p><p>“It’s not stupid,” he said reassuringly. “If that’s what you need to keep going, to stay motivated, and to feel like there’s something worth staying around for, then it’s not stupid, Virgil.” The anxious side said nothing, his eyes still trained on the table in front of him. All the while, Roman sat there, not pushing, holding Virgil’s hand. If Virgil wanted to talk, he would, but Roman knew better than anyone that sometimes all you need is someone to listen or be there with you, during the good and the bad moments.</p><p>“I wish I didn’t have to do this,” Virgil finally said, breaking the silence. Roman took a sip of his tea, waiting for the other to continue his thought. “I feel weak. I shouldn’t have to write lists and repeat reasons to myself, but… I do… and I wish I could stop.” He finally looked up, and saw Roman’s eyes focused only on him, compassion practically bleeding through the glance he was being given. </p><p>“I want to show you something, if that’s okay,” Roman finally spoke, a calculated, careful, but pleading look in his eyes. Virgil nodded, and the two sunk out of the living room. When they rose up, fingers still held tightly together, they were in the imagination. Virgil looked around; it was an art studio, with an easel, a cart full of paints, and canvases laid out on the floor and against the walls. He let go of Roman’s hand, tucking his notebook into one of his pockets, and wandered the room, investigating all of the paintings. Roman stood firmly in the same spot, watching the other very carefully. He spoke again, his deep voice echoing. “I paint when I can’t bear to do anything else. And when I paint, I paint the things that make me happy.”</p><p>It seemed true; there was a painting of Patton and Logan in their onesies, a sunset that Virgil recognized from one of Thomas’ outings last autumn, there was even a painting of Roman with Remus as children, on a swing set, smiles on their faces. What startled Virgil the most, though, was the sheer number of paintings of <em> him </em>. </p><p>Virgil in his vampire costume. Virgil giving his small smile. Virgil surrounded by bright lights. Virgil in his original jacket. Virgil sleeping comfortably on a couch.</p><p>It startled Virgil to see himself portrayed in such an… innocent, soft way. Roman had perfectly captured his likeness, but it wasn’t harsh or dark; it was light. He was surrounded by brightness. He finally turned around to look at Roman, who was standing at his easel again, painting quickly, mouth twisted in deep focus. Virgil didn’t say anything, instead he sat down in a lounge chair, bringing his legs up underneath him. He took his notebook out of his pocket and began writing again, describing the art studio and Roman in immaculate detail. He didn’t want to forget this moment.</p><p>Eventually, Virgil had dozed off in the chair. When he woke up again, there was a blanket covering him and his notebook was on a small table next to the chair. He glanced around the room, and saw Roman still painting, but a new painting was leaning against the backside of the easel. It was Virgil, sitting at the dining table, hunched over his notebook, writing. It was beautiful.</p><p>He slowly got up from the chair and walked over to stand beside Roman and looked at the painting. It was him sleeping in the chair, face so peaceful, and he couldn’t help but smile at it. Roman set his paintbrush down and looked at Virgil, a splash of purple paint on his cheek. This made Virgil laugh, and he brought up a thumb to get the paint off of Roman’s face. He wiped the paint onto his jeans, but when he looked back up, Roman was giving him a tender glance.</p><p>“What is it, Ro?” He asked, breaking the silence. Roman brought his own hand up and settled it on Virgil’s cheek, cradling his face gently. The anxious side leaned into the touch, a small smile forming on his lips. </p><p>“I hope that you can see that writing down the things that make you happy or give you reason to keep going isn’t weird or bad,” the prince said, stepping closer to Virgil. “But if you ever need a reminder, you can come in here and see all of the times that I felt down or useless or… not listened to, and look at the paintings to show you the beauty of the world around us and inside of you.” Virgil nodded, his eyes fluttering shut, a wave of calm passing over him. There was something so peaceful about the art studio, about being that close to Roman, about being touched in such a gentle manner. Roman’s voice brought him out of this thought. “And if this room isn’t enough, I can remind you, too. Virgil, there are so many reasons to keep fighting, to keep <em> going </em>, you just need to hold onto them, even if they are small.” Virgil opened his eyes, meeting Roman’s, and felt the urge to never look away.</p><p>“Thank you, Roman,” he said, voice low. Roman nodded, smiling softly. Virgil hesitated, but leaned up to kiss the prince’s cheek. He could feel Roman stop breathing, and when he settled back onto his feet, he saw that the taller side was blushing, looking down. </p><p>“Virgil… can I kiss you?” Roman asked, meeting his eyes again. Virgil nodded, and Roman leaned down, their foreheads pressed together as their lips met, Virgil’s arms wrapping around the prince’s neck.</p><p>Later that night, when he was back in his room, he opened his notebook and wrote down a few more reasons to keep going.</p><p>
  <em> Roman’s lips on mine </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Roman looking at me like I’m a constellation </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Roman holding my hand </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Roman’s painting of us kissing</em>
</p>
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